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I Bury Your Backpack at My Wounded Knee

Backpacks have a place: wide open spaces with trails for
hiking; mountainsides where men and women have climbed to great heights; a
handy small travel bag when going to grandma’s house for the holidays. I’m all
for that. I don’t like to wear them myself, the wear and tear on my shoulders
and back make them seem more like torture chambers to me, but I understand if
you find them to be comfortable.Backpacks do not have a place on the busy sidewalks of New
York. They do not belong on rush hour transportation. I know, I know. You love
your backpack. You love the convenience of carrying your burden on your
shoulders and keeping your hands free to shop and text. What you have forgotten is that the svelte picture you have
nestled away in your brain of how good you looked when you left the house
couldn’t be further from the truth! Your girth has doubled.Even worse, you are
completely unaware as you zip through crowds leaving crying children in your
wake as your bag meets their faces. What about the old man nearly knocked off
his walker as you slip in and out of the crowd as though you were the thin
person you are without the offending backpack?Today a young man, with the need to be ahead of me on the
escalator, zipped around and then landed
on the step in front of me. His backpack made him the size of 2 men and he
knocked me backward off my step. He didn’t even notice. How could he, protected
as he was by 2 feet
of padding? Luckily for those behind me on the escalator, I only fell back one
step before catching myself. If you really need to wear one of those things, put it on
and then look at yourself from all angles. Try to understand that your back
side has just become a weapon.

Comments

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Good ideas! I have just read your article on "I Bury Your Backpack at My Wounded Knee" and found it very impressive. The article is resourceful and attractive for the readers in the highest level. I must say that I look forward to read more on this topic. Bravo!

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